


The Pact

by cosmictrap



Category: New Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, Drama, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Romance, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmictrap/pseuds/cosmictrap
Summary: Nick and Jess have known each other for quite a long time. On a New Year's Night, spent single, they make a pact - if they're still single when they turn 30, they'd marry each other. As their 30th birthdays approach, things seem to be looking up but take a somewhat unexpected turn. Time will tell if it's for the better or worse.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ENTIRE FIC IS BETA'D BY THE AMAZING @DREAMSOFSLEEPINGIN!!!!

**I**

Jessica Day stared at the lights, completely mesmerised. She adjusted her glasses that were slipping off her nose, as she tried to stand on her toes to peek outside the window in her room. Before long, her little feet began to hurt. She took the stool that was placed next to her bright pink mini-vanity and dragged it across the floor and placed it under the window. Carefully, climbing up, she looked enviously into her backyard where all the grownups were.

New Year's Eve was the one celebration that was still a mystery to her. All she knew of it was what her teacher had told her - New Year meant that the Earth had completed one full revolution around the sun. She'd guessed that must be a big deal. Every year, her parents would tuck her in earlier than usual, and she would fight to stay awake. She would lay in her bed, listening for the familiar sound of people counting down followed by the the pop of the fireworks going off in the sky, which would fill her room with flickering colours.

Lucky for her, it was unusually warm in January that year, so her parents were hosting the annual New Year's Eve party in their backyard. She could peep into the backyard without them catching her awake at midnight.

She stood on that stool, wondering what it was that all these grownups did. So far, they all seemed to just be talking while sipping on some grownup juice that her Dad and Mom insisted wasn't healthy for children.

_It was juice! How could it not be healthy?!_

She's had juice loads of time before, and had always been encouraged to do so. But this juice seemed so special that the grownups didn't want to share.

Despite how boring it all seemed so far, she couldn't wait to be grownup enough to be allowed there. Eight wasn't grownup enough, apparently, but fourteen was. Abby had gone to her friends' house to celebrate New Year's Eve and was sleeping over. Of course, Abby had thrown a fit before her Dad finally gave in and let her go, much to her mother's annoyance.

She watched her parents talking to Mr. and Mrs. Miller and wondered where Nick was. Slowly getting down from the stool, she walked to the other window in her room and stood on her toes. The light in his room was still on, she observed. She wondered if he fell asleep reading again. Just as she was about to turn and go back to her stool, his face appeared at his window. She raised her hand to wave at him and he waved back, grinning.

He held up his clock and then while holding up all of his fingers, mouthed, "Ten minutes!"

She nodded enthusiastically but doubted he could see. From where he was, even if she stood on her toes, all he could see would be the top of her head and her eyes. He laughed at her before gesturing for her to come downstairs with one finger, and she held her index finger above the window in response - _One minute._

Before leaving, she quickly climbed back onto the stool to make sure her parents were still out there, preoccupied with the party. Then, grabbing her pink jacket, she hurried out of her room, her little feet making a dull pitter-patter against the wooden floor.

She ran out of the back door of her kitchen, crouching so none of the adults would spot her and walked towards the fence that divided the lawns of the Miller and Day residences. Nick was already standing at the place where a huge chunk of a wooden beam was missing, the result of a crazy game her, Nick, and Winston had been playing, and it now served as their rendezvous point.

"Where's Winston?" she asked, her eyes searching for him.

"We were playing video games and thought that'd keep us up for a while, but he fell asleep," said Nick, shaking his head.

"What a baby!" they said together and laughed.

They sat down on the on the grass, each on their own side of their backyards.

"I'm so excited to see the fireworks!" she said.

"Why? It's not like you've never seen them before?" asked Nick quizzically.

"Yes, Nicholas, I have. But never on New Year's Eve!"

"They're all the same!"

She simply stuck her tongue out at him in response.

"You're so weird," he said frowning at her.

"You look like Dog again!" she laughed.

Nick scowled, and she started laughing harder.

"I don't look like that stupid turtle of yours!"

"Dog's not stupid! And it's not my fault you make the same face as Dog."

Nick scrunched his face in annoyance. "I still don't know why you'd call your turtle _Dog_. It's a turtle, Jessica!"

"I told you, I wanted a dog. Mom said a fish, a turtle, or a hamster was the only pet I'm allowed to have," she said shrugging. "Besides, I think it's kind of funny."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden noise of people beginning the countdown. When they reached the final number, Jess clapped with unrestrained enthusiasm as the fireworks lit up the sky.

"It's so pretty, isn't it?" she asked, excitedly, turning to Nick who was frowning at something else.

"What?" she asked.

"They're all kissing!" he said, face still contorted into a frown as he stared at the people in her backyard.

"All grownups do, Nick!" she said looking at him. "Abby says it's gooood," she said lowering her voice secretively.

"Blech!" he said, grimacing. "I'm never kissing anybody."

"You'll have to kiss your wife, you know."

Nick grimaced at her. "No."

"But you'll have to kiss your wife, Nick! All husbands do," she said, and enjoying his growing irritation, she added, "And wives kiss their husbands too."

"Shut up, Jess!" he said, getting up to leave.

"Wait, Nick, I'm sorry," she said, laughing, and he relented and sat back down. "Fine, you don't have to kiss anyone."

"Good."

"Jessica Christopher Day! Is that you over there?!" Her mother's voice rang through the air, cutting over the increasing noise of the fireworks and revellers from the party.

She widened her eyes and looked at him, jumping to her feet.

"I have to go. Bye, Nick!"

He got up as well, dusting off his pyjamas. "Bye, Jess."

As she ran back towards the house, he yelled, "Happy New Year, ya weirdo!"

"Happy New Year to you too, Dog!" she called back.

**II**

Nick frowned at the trapdoor of the treehouse as he waited impatiently, playing with the straps of his newly purchased _Re-Animator_ bag. Both Winston and Jess were late. Finally, he heard the chains of the ladder rattling and opened the trapdoor to peer down the trunk of the tree. He caught sight of the familiar dark hair and waited patiently for her to reach the top. He laughed a little at her slow pace as she carefully held onto each of the rungs to keep from falling.

When her head finally reached the trapdoor, he cocked his head. "Hey."

She looked up startled, jumping slightly as the ladder rattled at the sudden movement. "Nick! Are you trying to kill me?!" she hissed.

"Not today, Jess, not today," he said, shaking his head as he helped her up the door.

"Where's Winston?" she asked, as she finally took a seat on one of the ragged cushions in the small treehouse.

"I don't know," said Nick, frowning. "Do you think he chickened out?"

"He's been up here before," she shrugged. "I don't see why he would-"

Before she could complete her sentence, Winston emerged from the trapdoor, frowning with concentration.

"Hey, Winston!" said Jess happily.

Grunting in response, he climbed into the treehouse and grabbed a black cushion to use as a seat. As he sat down, the squeak of wood made his eyes widen. "This place is falling apart!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Winnie, that's normal!"

Winston scowled. "That's what my aunt said about the stairs before she fell through and broke a leg! And we're on a tree. And we're small," he said, before lowering his voice to say, "We'll all die."

"Winston, we're not gonna die!" said Nick sternly.

"Yeah, we're like, ten, and strong," Jess chimed in. "At the most, we'd break all our limbs."

"Jessica!" whined Winston.

"It's starting!" Jess said excitedly, crawling on her knees to the tiny window in the treehouse as she heard the ring of the countdown.

The treehouse's window overlooked the Days' backyard and the height it was at made it one of the best vantage points on the entire block. As she peered through the window, she felt Nick and Winston come up behind her, Winston still grumbling. They watched with bated breath as the countdown reached 'one' and watched the firecrackers streak upwards before exploding in colour.

"Okay, guys, I really need to pee!" said Winston, with urgency as he scuffled towards the trapdoor and started to climb down.

"Winnie, but you just came!"

"I know, but I didn't want to miss the firecrackers!" he called, already halfway down the ladder.

When Nick turned back, an amused look on his face, he saw that Jess was still at the window.

Jess watched her parents kissing and she let out a happy giggle. All the yelling and fighting that happened at home these days, and here they were. She put her elbow on the sill of the window and rested her face in her hand as she watched everyone celebrating, feeling giddy with happiness. She couldn't wait to be there; someday.

Nick peered over her shoulder curiously. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

Jess simply shook her head with a smile. "Nothing," she said, as she continued to stare.

"Ugh, midnight is over. Why are people still doing that?!"

"They're _kissing_ , Nick," said Jess, swatting his shoulder lightly, turning around and sitting back on the treehouse floor. "It's romantic!"

"It's weird!" said Nick, indignantly.

"No, it isn't, Nick!"

"It's weird enough when people kiss my cheek, and-"

"Is not!" said Jess, stomping her foot.

"It is!"

She leaned forward suddenly and planted a kiss on his cheek. "There. Now, was that weird?"

Nick was frowning, his hand on his cheek as he gave her question a thought. "I guess not," he muttered, begrudgingly.

"My turn," she said playfully, turning her face to him.

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering "You're so weird," but fair was fair, he supposed. He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. As he drew back, he caught the faint scent of butterscotch and realized he'd never been this close to her. It reminded him of all those cupcakes with butterscotch frosting topped with crackles that Mrs. Day baked and sent over to his house almost every weekend.

_Huh. Jess smelled like butterscotch._

That stupid rhyme goes through his head about girls being made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Guess that was true, or at least it was for her.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" laughed Jess.

"No, it wasn't," agreed Nick, joining her in her laughter.

**III**

Nick stood in his empty kitchen, staring at the refrigerator with hesitation. Shaking his head, he trudged forward and grabbed a bottle of beer from his father's stock of Heisler. He wasn't around that much anyway and his mother wouldn't notice; the only way she'd even know would be if Jamie told on him. He walked over to the bottom of the staircase, straining to listen and make sure that his brother was still asleep; lucky for him, he could sleep through anything.

He walked out the backdoor and sat on the grass under the only tree in his backyard. He threw a few glances at the quiet and empty backyards of his neighbours. His mother had gone to the Kennedys', who'd been hosting the New Year's Eve party ever since the Days had moved away four years ago. She'd gotten all excited and dressed up as if his father hadn't been missing for nearly a week; maybe she'd just gotten tired of fighting with him, crying over him late at night. Maybe she had to prove life still went on with or without him there.

He would still see Mr. Day around every once in a while, but he mostly stayed in the small apartment he'd moved into after Mrs. Day and Jess had moved to Portland. Nick didn't know if he was supposed to say hi to him anymore. A lot of the adults seemed to want to avoid him, so Nick did too. He kind of felt sorry for the guy having to deal with the hushed whispers of all those adults. No one really wanted to face the fact that families weren't as permanent as everyone seemed to think they were.

With a dull ache in his heart, he realized that this was probably the first New Year's Eve he'd spent without Jess. He'd been hoping that despite their breakup at the end of the summer, she'd come to visit Mr. Day after Christmas like she did every year.

As he sipped on his beer, he realized that that had been a stupid hope to have. He'd told himself he wasn't going to the airport this time the way he had every other time she left for Portland. He already said goodbye to her yesterday. He had to do it before she left for the airport in one of 'their' places so it would seem like any other day saying goodbye to her and he could pretend she wasn't leaving and everything was okay; that _he_ was okay. She knew he wasn't going to show up, but he still spent the entire night debating whether or not he should just show up and surprise her anyway. Then he hates himself because that's a boyfriend thing to do and he's not that. Not anymore. He'd thought about that and forced himself to stay in bed until the clock on his nightstand told him that her flight had taken off and the decision was made for him.

He wondered if they should've just given their relationship a chance instead of just giving up. How difficult could long-distance relationships be anyway? People did that all the time.

_"What if it doesn't work, Nick?" she'd asked tearfully. "You mean too much to me. What if we can't be friends anymore?"_

As he drained the bottle, he knew that she had a point, but it wasn't like being "just friends" right now was any easier.

She'd called so many times after she'd left, but he never took any of her calls. He'd told his mother that he wasn't ready to talk to her just yet, and she made excuses for him though she would always look at him disapprovingly while she spoke into the landline. He didn't know what to say to her. He was terrible at this, and he'd rather maintain radio silence than say something utterly stupid.

After calling him everyday for a while, she'd stopped altogether, and he didn't blame her. But complete silence on her end also made him jittery; was this what it was always going to be like?

He couldn't bear the thought of her coming next summer and not being on talking terms with her; he couldn't spend an entire summer knowing that she was only a few blocks down the road. Knowing her, she wouldn't try to talk to him if she came here because she'd already tried on her end, and he'd shot her attempts down. She probably thinks he's mad at her and doesn't want to talk to her anymore when that couldn't be further from the truth. He just needs more time to find the right words to say.

But what if she didn't come back to Chicago next summer because he was being too much of a coward? He'd be going away to college next year, which was all the way over on the other side of town. He might not see her for quite a while after summer next year. Then he'd be going away to law school, and after that… who knows?

He shook his head trying to banish those thoughts as he reminded himself of her promise that they'd always be friends, no matter what.

_"That's why we need Middle School Dance Rules," she'd said as she sniffled, trying to smile._

_Middle School Dance Rules. What did that even mean!?_

And he'd just mutely agreed, after which they'd hugged; his hands in her hair, her face in his neck, his chin resting on her shoulder.

He heard the countdown begin in the distance and missed her more than ever, and decided that he couldn't let that hug be the last time he'd ever see her. It simply couldn't be goodbye for them. Not yet. Maybe he could just write everything down first, and read it out to her like a script. It was the lamest of the lame things, but at least that would still be something. That would still be better than saying nothing to her at all.

Feeling a little hopeful, Nick got to his feet and walked back into the house. As he tiptoed across the kitchen and headed up the stairs, he decided to open the fancy stationery set that Jess had gotten for him.

In fact, why read it out to her? He could just send it to her. Yes, he would write her a letter! He knew she loved letters, and had even written a few to him over the years. He'd laughed her off, calling her silly for writing when she could just call him. But right now, he was extremely thankful for letters.

Once in his room, he took the set out from the drawer and set it down on the flat surface of the desk. He sat down at the desk and carefully pulled a ruled sheet out from the stack in front of him. His hand hovered over the paper for a few moments, as he debated what he could write.

Maybe he should just sound casual; ask her how school was, how Portland was, how she was doing. But this wasn't just about him wanting to know how she was. He wanted to talk to her, tell her everything he would've told her like he used to, before the breakup, before she moved away, like before when they were just Nick and Jess. He needed her to know that she was important to him, that despite everything, he still wanted to be friends. She probably thought otherwise given how he'd ignored her over the last few months.

He needed to tell her the truth. To be honest.

_It's New Year's Day, Jess. And I miss you._

**IV**

Greendale College was having its annual New Year's Eve Party. Students only of course. The grounds were decked out in fairy lights and the occasional banners. Music hummed in the air, peppered with the chatter of students. Enclosed by balloons and streamers, the open quad was brightly lit up against the night sky. People gathered here to dance the last few hours away as the DJ played all the hit songs from the past year.

Jessica Day stood under a tree, surrounded by all those happy people, ruefully watching everyone dance. Being single on New Year's Eve was awful; it made her feel lonely. She swayed gently to the music, singing along to the song pretending to have a good time but inside wondering why she'd even bother coming to this party. It only made her feel worse about being alone, and served as a reminder of the fact that she had no one to kiss her at midnight.

As she brought cup of beer to her mouth for another sip, she realized it was empty and grimaced. She'd lost count of how many cups she'd had and all the alcohol she'd downed made her slightly light-headed. She didn't even know why she'd been drinking beer. She didn't even like beer that much. She chucked the empty cup she held in her hand into the nearest trashcan.

"Hey, Day," said a voice behind her, and she jumped, startled.

She whirled around and came face-to-face with a familiar grin. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Miller! What're you doing here?"

He merely shrugged. "Well, I finally felt ready for tomorrow's test."

She leaned against the tree, raising her eyebrows. "You've been preparing like a maniac for weeks. How'd you feel ready now?"

"Well, the thought of the test tomorrow doesn't make me want to throw up anymore," he said casually. "I felt like I deserved a drink. Or four."

Laughing quietly, she said, "Winston's still mad at you for ditching him by the way."

"He'll come around. He understands why this test is so important. Can't be Sir Nicholas Slacks-Alot anymore now that I'm going to law school and all," he said, adding defensively, "And I don't see why he's pissed, to be honest. It's not like he went alone. My roommate went with him!"

"Nick! You know they don't really get along that well!" she exclaimed, swatting his arm.

"Hey, Schmidt's not a bad guy. He grows on ya."

"Where is he anyway?" asked Jess, wondering why he hadn't come along with Nick like he usually did.

Nick felt himself smile a little. "Cece."

Jess laughed, shaking her head. "Did not see that one coming."

"Me neither," laughed Nick. "I'm happy for him."

"Me too," she agreed. "He's a nice guy. Cece really needs someone like that now. After Kyle and Shivrang…"

"Don't forget Robby," said Nick, shuddering at the memory.

"I know he's my cousin and all, but what was Cece thinking?!"

Nick chuckled in agreement, and they turned to watch the people dancing. They stood in silence until Nick asked her if she wanted another beer. Shrugging, she said with a smile, "I don't see why not."

As he turned to walk away, she caught his hand and in her lightheaded haze, she didn't feel him tense ever so slightly when she did so. Letting him lead her through the crowd of people, she tried to walk faster to keep pace with him, occasionally whining at him to slow down. He merely chuckled in response as they finally reached the table where the keg was. They came to a stop in front of it as Nick filled two red cups before handing one to her. She quietly took it and slumped into the nearest chair, as Nick went off to find a chair for himself. He reappeared in a few seconds and sat next to her.

They sat in silence for a while, one of them getting up to get a refill every so often. As they sat, Nick watched Jess looking wistfully at everyone else dancing around them.

"Alright, that's it," he said, standing up after downing his latest cup of beer.

She looked up at him, startled. "You don't wear being sad very well, Day," he said with a smirk, and held out a hand. "Now get up and dance with me."

Blinking in surprise at his gesture, she grinned before taking his hand and letting him lead her to the makeshift dancefloor. In a matter of seconds, they were both laughing madly as they danced.

"Hey, Nick, look at me!" giggled Jess, "I'm doing the chicken dance."

Laughing, she started flapping her arms wildly, before Nick caught her and said seriously, "Let's try it in slow-motion."

She laughed in surprise at him, as he slowed his pace. Nick felt a tad silly, because he'd never do something like this on his own. He was made even more aware of this fact as he sensed people around him starting to turn and look at him. But this was Jess, whom he's known forever, and she was being moody and pitiful, which was very unlike her. When she broke into giggles and joined him, he couldn't help the grin that split his face, and what anyone else thought didn't matter.

They both danced without a care in the world, laughing together. Soon, others had joined in their laughter, some even imitating them. After a few more rounds, the music changed to a soft melody, and the lights softened as well. A silence fell as people who'd come alone slunk away from the crowd and the others tried to look for their dates as midnight neared.

Nick and Jess looked around as people shuffled in different directions until Nick took Jess' hand and placed it on his shoulder. She looked at him, surprised but when he shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, she laughed softly. She took one of his hands and placed it on her waist and held on to the other, starting to sway to the music. As the song changed to Auld Lang Syne, somewhere in the distance, they heard the call for a countdown. They looked at each other, as the countdown began Jess said suddenly, "Kiss me, Miller."

Nick's eyes widened in 're friends now, but they haven't done their New Year's Eve kiss ritual in years. Haven't even talked about that since the breakup. He didn't think that was a memory she even wanted to revisit. "What happened to Middle School Dance Rules?"

"Nick, that was two years ago!" she said, dismissively.

"You're drunk," he said definitively, cocking his head.

"Yeah," she agreed. "So are you."

"Yeah."

"So it doesn't count," she said.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed, holding her gaze.

And as people erupted in cheers around them and fireworks exploded in the sky, Nick hesitated only for a moment before planting a kiss on her lips. As he began to pull away, her arms went around his neck as she pulled him in for a deeper kiss. Taken by surprise, Nick stood still until Jess's hands crawled up his chest and bunched his T-shirt tightly to pull him closer. He let himself be swept up by the moment and kissed her back, biting her lower lip as she sighed into the kiss. His hands went around her waist as he held on to her tightly, feeling slightly giddy. When the noise subsided, they pulled away, breathing heavily.

He knows it doesn't change anything, but he'd kiss her any day of the week if she let him. He's glad she's still in his life, despite everything that has happened between them.

"Happy New Year, Day."

"Happy New Year, Miller."

**V**

Jess walked towards the bar, feeling extremely disheartened. Her eyes stung with the tears she'd been trying to keep at bay. She'd cried enough through the day, and she was sure that if she cried anymore, her face would fall off.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't remove the image of the red-haired girl spooning with her boyfriend, in their bed. What she'd hoped would be a surprise had turned out to be a nightmare. If she'd returned later in the evening like she was initially supposed to, none of this would've happened.

Wrong. If you'd returned later, you wouldn't have ever known and you'd be sitting across from him at Bellamy's right now, clueless.

She shook her head, trying to forget all the nasty thoughts that had been creeping at the back of her mind since that morning. She'd wandered around aimlessly after leaving their apartment in a hurry. She'd sat on different benches at the park to cry, shifted from cafe to cafe; anything to distract her. As much as she wanted to call any of her friends, she was too ashamed to do that; it was New Year's Eve and they all had plans. She didn't doubt for a second that they would drop everything for her, but why bring others down with her, right?

Nick sat alone in a booth at the bar he frequented. He tried desperately to push away the image of Caroline from his mind. They'd broken up again this morning. Just like always, she'd said that she couldn't see "this" going anywhere. He'd apologised to her frantically, trying to convince her that this relationship did mean something to him. He was pretty sure he had used the same speech before at some point. He had a hundred different versions memorized by now; they were all categorised in his head, each for a different kind of breakup. As usual, she'd looked at him with tears in her eyes before pursing her lips and quietly asking him to leave her apartment. And just like every time, he'd begged her to give them another chance, even though he knew it was useless and his traitorous feet were already leading him to the front door. Bidding him "goodbye", she'd continue to lead him out before shutting the door in his face.

Nick knew the drill; he'd try to distract himself, sleep around a little bit for a few days just so he wouldn't feel pathetic sitting alone at home, and then go back to her apartment with a bouquet of lilies. She'd take the flowers but send him away, only to eventually find him at the bar later in the night, almost as if to prove it was her choice and not his to get back together. They'd have makeup sex and settle into the same comfortable routine as if nothing had happened.

Sighing, he frowned at the books in front of him, trying to concentrate, but all the legal jargon was only frustrating him further. Teenage Nick would've been amused at how religiously he was meeting all of his had so many big plans back then. He definitely never imagined he was going to be this person. He closed his eyes, trying to remember why he'd chosen law - so he could always provide for his family, the one he came from and the one he hoped to have one day in the future. Reminding himself of that, he started to feel the familiar resentment towards his father starting to bubble up within him, but shook his head to clear those thoughts away. He didn't want to wind up being bitter about that; he would let the past be the past. He pulled out a black, leather-bound notebook from underneath his other books. He set his pen on the blank paper, trying to channel his frustration into words.

The feeling of purposelessness was overwhelming. The world was falling apart around him and all he could do was watch. The stench of death was everywhere, and the world he remembered as a child, pulsating with vitality, became nothing but a distant memory.

He paused, trying to concentrate but his thoughts were broken by a familiar voice. "Nick?"

Startled, he looked up to see Jess standing in front of him, eyes widened in surprise. She held a glass of pink wine in one hand and was playing with her shawl with the other.

"Jess! Hi!" he said, surprised,. taking in her mildly dishevelled state.

He hadn't seen her much this time during the holidays. Boy, had the holidays flown this time. It felt like he'd only been here yesterday, but he was already leaving tomorrow. With her final year in college and her growing relationship with Spencer, she was hardly around. And to be fair, he wasn't able to spare any time either, what with all the Caroline drama and his ever growing pile of assignments.

She nodded at him in way of greeting and moved to sit next to him as he slid further into the booth to make some space for her.

"Didn't peg you and Spencer as the kind of people who would do New Year's Eve in a bar, Day," he said, chuckling as he closed his notebook and put it into his bag.

When he didn't hear a snarky response back from her, he looked up and was met with her tear-filled gaze. Concerned, he turned to her and noticed her bloodshot eyes and the tear-tracks on her face.

"Jess, what is it?" he asked, placing a hand on her knee.

"Spencer cheated on me," she sniffled.

Nick gaped at her, as his face started to turn red. "I knew he was a douche! When-"

"This morning," she said, trying to wipe her tears with the back of her hand. "I came home early to surprise him and-"

"Where is that pig? I'll fix him, I swear," he said angrily, adding with a dark smirk, "And I'll take Cece with me. He's terrified of her."

Jess merely shook her head. "Pretty sure you scare the shit out of him too. Besides, have you forgotten? She's gone to New York to be with Schmidt," she said and placed her head on his shoulder. "Thanks for the offer, Nick. But it's fine, it's not worth it."

Nick watched her cry, feeling helpless. He hated to see her in tears, but he didn't know what he could do at that moment. He'd always known Jess was way too good for a dumbass like Spencer.

"I feel like three years of my life have gone to waste, Nick. I don't know what to do now. I really thought he was The One, you know?" she said softly.

"Jess, he was not The One," said Nick gently, "Spencer's an idiot. Anyone can see that."

"But Nick, I just think about the last three years, and I just… It's Spencer. And I loved him! What if I am alone forever now? What if I don't find someone else? What if…. Something's wrong with me? Why would he cheat and-"

"Hey, hey," Nick leaned back in his chair, his arm going around her shoulder. "Jess, I've known you practically my whole life. Hell, I don't remember a time when you weren't around. And believe me, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. He's the loser, and you're…. You. And you deserve so much better."

When she said nothing, and continued to look at her hands forlornly, he continued, "And believe me when I tell you that that someone is right around the corner, waiting for you."

"Gosh, Miller," she laughed shakily. "Look at you being all emotional and giving me a pep talk."

Nick put both his hands up, shaking his head. "Hey, I have my moments."

She gave him a small smile, but the tears were still there in her eyes. "All I want to do right now is watch Dirty Dancing," she said sadly.

"You haven't watched it yet?! What were you doing all morning?"

"Well, I left the apartment in a hurry. Obviously. Because that ho - wait, no, sorry, she might actually be nice - Michelle was prancing about my house, naked. So I couldn't get the DVD," she said, adding, "I went to my dad's place, but he wasn't really of much help. You know how he is."

"Wow, what about ice cream?"

"Had two tubs," she said proudly, holding up two fingers. "On a park bench."

He looked at her disbelievingly while she shrugged nonchalantly.

"We'll get it back tomorrow, first thing. We'll get all of your stuff back, and we'll find you another place to live," he promised. "I'm sure I have a copy of Dirty Dancing somewhere at home. We can watch it there if you want," he offered, adding, "And hey, you can even sleep over if you don't want to go to your dad's."

Jess gave him a watery smile, nodding. "Yes, please. Dad's sick of that movie and will throw a tantrum if I watch it at his apartment," she said, and chuckled. "Remember all those sleepovers we used to have when we were kids? It'll be just like old times."

"Yeah, good times," agreed Nick. "But just so you know, I'm sick of that film too."

Responding with another chuckle, she put her head on Nick's shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and they sat in silence for a few minutes, as Nick continued to stare at his notes, trying to make sense of them. But then a thought crossed Jess's mind and she looked up at him. "Wait, why are you here? I thought you were going with Caroline to that party?"

He hesitated for a second before he said, "Caroline and I broke up. Again."

Jess sat up straight, turning her face to him. "What?! Nick, why didn't you tell me?"

Nick rolled his eyes and shook his head in mock annoyance, though his heart still dully ached at the thought of his break up. Almost as if sensing it, she said, "Don't worry, Nick. You'll get her back. You always do."

He nodded thoughtfully, staring at the papers spread out in front of him, and couldn't help the laughter that rose in his chest.

"Well, looks like it's just us again," he said with amusement.

They both shared a smile together, before turning to look at the commotion in the bar as the last few seconds of the past year trickled down.

"10…. 9…. 8…."

Jess slumped back in the chair, Nick chuckling as he gave her a side hug.

"7….6…. 5…."

"You ready, Miller?"

"4…. 3…."

Nick snickered, as he leaned in closer to her. "This might as well become a ritual with us."

Smiling, Jess closed the distance between them and they kissed, just a chaste, innocent peck on the lips.

"1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!" People exploded into screams as fireworks went off outside, as they drew apart, smiling slightly.

"Happy New Year, Jess."

"Happy New Year, Nick."

They laughed and clinked their respective drinks before emptying them. "To another failed relationship."

"Or to another break in your case," she added, laughing. "Besides, I'm only 24. You're only 25. There's a long way to go, I guess."

Nick agreed. "Yep, unless our string of bad luck continues till we die."

"Ugh, I hope I don't have to wait until I die. I want a family before I die."

Nick nodded in agreement. "Me too, Jess. Me too."

Jess sank back in her seat and they sat in silence for a few minutes, each passing moment the alcohol getting deeper into their system. Nick felt a little guilty about the slight happiness that had begun to creep in. Caroline had broken up with him, but here he was, happy that he got to spend another New Year's Eve with Jess. Those were always fun. It'd been some time since it had been just the two of them, laughing and talking. And maybe because it's New Year's again, and he's thinking about resolutions and the not-so-distant future, but he wants to do something crazy to make sure Future Jess stays in his life, even if no one else does.

"Hey, Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"If we're still single when we're 30, let's get married to each other."

She turned to look at him, eyes wide. "Are you asking me to marry you, Miller?"

Nick shrugged. "If we're still single when we're 30."

Jess quirked a brow. "Only if you do it right."

"What! I'm not getting down on one knee, Jess!" said Nick indignantly.

She must be drunk because right now because that doesn't sound half bad. At least someone wants to marry her, even if it was just Nick. She could do worse.

"Fine, old man," she giggled and stood up and curtsied. "Why of course, Nicholas. I will marry you. _If_ we're 30 and single."

Nick laughed. "Barkeep!" he called, turning towards the bar, "Another round please, we're engaged!"


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo boy, took me long enough, didn't it. Sorry I kept y'all waiting, it's just that I got caught up in writing other fic, lol.

**8th April, 2011**

The Griffin was filled with the chatter of the late night crowd. Almost every booth was so jam-packed with patrons that the music emanating from the jukebox could barely be heard over the din. Winston, Aly, Schmidt, and Cece were in their favourite booth closest to the bar, talking quite animatedly. After Winston and Aly shared the story of their latest arrest, an idiot who tried to pass off a pound of meth as aquarium rocks, Schmidt and Cece proceeded to tell them the latest escapade of their three-year-old; Baby Ruth had just discovered the pleasures of Nutella and insisted on eating anything and everything with it, much to Schmidt's chagrin.

"Nutella in her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is how it begins, you guys, and before you know it, the only thing she'll be able to fit into will be 5XL hoodies!" he fretted. "I know I sound like a terrible person. I love her, I do. I'd love her, no matter what, even if she became the size of a small planet, but I've been the fat kid and I never want her to know that the world doesn't love fat kids back. I don't want her to grow up the way I did."

Every half hour or so, Nick would pop by to check if they needed a refill on their drinks and share a few laughs with them before going back to the bar. He wouldn't say much, just listened to their conversation with amusement on his face, and occasionally roll his eyes at some of their bizarre comments.

It was almost a normal Friday night. Almost.

All day, everyone had been giving Nick worried looks, too afraid to ask why he had returned so soon from New Orleans. He clearly did not want to talk about it, but he seemed surprisingly unaffected by his latest breakup since his unexpected arrival that morning at the loft. He'd seemed oddly cheerful when he'd showed up that morning, carrying a number of flattened, disassembled cardboard boxes in tow. Waving away Winston's concerned questions, he'd headed straight to Reagan's room and dumped the cardboard boxes on the floor before heading to his own room.

"We need a new roommate," he'd declared matter-of-factly.

And after that, no matter how many questions were thrown his way, direct or disguised, Nick's word of the day seemed to be "fine." He was fine, or so he claimed.

On one of his nervous pacing sessions outside Nick's room, Winston had heard bits of Nick's phone conversations to Reagan. He had expected begging or crying like after Nick broke up with Caroline, but it was remarkably civil. Too civil. This was the eye of the hurricane and Winston knew he needed reinforcements. By evening, Schmidt had arrived with supplies (Die Hard, pizza, and booze) for the inevitable Nick Breakdown they thought was coming, but it never happened. They were surprised to find that Nick wasn't sorrowful enough to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey as he usually did after a breakup. They'd tried asking him again, but he'd merely shrugged them away with the classic noncommittal excuse, "We wanted different things."

It felt like a half-truth but Nick wasn't crying in Reagan's old room wearing Reagan's clothes or drunk-dialing her in bad accents, so Schmidt and Winston tried to let it go, albeit reluctantly. Maybe Nick had just grown up.

A little while later, Winston and Aly decided to call it a night and head home, exhausted after their busy day. Minutes after they'd left, any remaining semblance of a normal Friday quickly vanished when Jess's voice cut through the din, loud and clear. "Hey, barkeep!" she called. "Hit me up with the best pink wine, you have!"

Her voice made Nick turn around in surprise and he felt a familiar sense of excitement at seeing the face of one of his oldest and best friends. He hadn't seen her in so long. She was on the other end of the bar and he shot her a quick smile, wondering why she was here. Friday was the one day he knew she was completely unavailable. It was the only night Sam had off from work, all the trials and tribulations of being an in-demand pediatrician down at the children's hospital, and the two always made it a point to go out on a dinner date to "keep the romance alive."

True, after marrying Sam, Jess didn't really have much time for him or anyone else for that matter, but she was happy, so he was okay with seeing her only during the holidays. But an impromptu Jessica Day appearance was always welcome, a rare and unexpected treat.

As he poured her favorite pink wine into a glass, he wondered if Sam had come with her. Sam wasn't a bad guy and had seemed quite nice the few times he'd actually spoken to him, but Nick always preferred to see Jess alone. Eyes searching the bar crowd for Sam, he headed over to her as she took a seat at the bar. It looked like Sam was MIA tonight. He couldn't help feeling a little bit happy at the fact that he would get Jess all to himself tonight; they had a lot to catch up on. But when he got closer, he could see her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. His joy at seeing her quickly turned to concern and he wondered if Sam's absence had something to do with her tears. The tear tracks were long gone, but the tip of her nose was still red, a sure sign that she had been crying for a long time. Cece seemed to have noticed her dishevelled appearance as well, because she was making a beeline towards them.

"Hey, Jess," he said carefully, sliding the glass to her across the bar. He glanced around carefully, before asking, "Where's Sam?"

Jess grimaced and downed her glass in a single gulp, just as Cece sat down on the bar stool next to her. "Pour me another," she muttered.

Nick exchanged a quiet look with Cece before pouring her another glass. Cece hesitantly lay a hand on Jess's shoulder. "Babe, what're you doing here on a Friday night? Where's Sam?"

"Yeah. Where is Sam?" she said, laughing bitterly as she finished her second glass. "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Then she looked at Nick, her eyes starting to sting with tears. "One more," she said, pushing the glass towards him.

"Jess-" he started warningly. He knew she was a lightweight with a four glass limit, but she cut him off.

"Nick!" she said, scowling, the tears threatening to spill. "I need another glass."

Reluctantly, he poured her another glass and watched with worry as she gulped it all down too. Then she turned to the booth, where Schmidt was trying to catch Nick's eye, face etched with mild concern.

"Schmidt, what're you doing all the way over there?" she said, sounding overenthusiastic. "Come here, I have a something to tell you guys!"

Schmidt looked at Cece and Nick nervously, but then Jess hopped off the stool. "Oh, wait. I'll come over there!" she said her voice breaking a little as she started to walk towards the booth, stumbling slightly. Cece hurried after her, hands hovering on either side of her, just in case she needed to be caught. Nick was also hastily stepping out from behind the bar, and walking after her, already warming up to the idea of punching Sam in the face, if need be.

Jess stood at the table of the booth, towering over them. Cece had slid into the booth next to Schmidt and Nick was standing to Jess's left, arms crossed in wary anticipation. She raised her empty glass in the air. "I, Jessica Sweeney, will soon be Jessica Day again," she said, eyes clouding up again. The tears began to pour freely down her cheeks as she ran her free hand down her face. She collapsed into the booth, her forehead coming to rest on the table with a dull thud.

For a few seconds, a deathly quiet fell over the table, except for Jess's almost silent tears. After getting over his initial shock at her declaration, Nick was crouching down next to her while Cece had bolted out of her seat to kneel next to Nick. Schmidt had slumped in his chair, utter disbelief written over his face, quietly muttering under his breath. Everyone's eyes were still on Jess and all their questions poured out at once.

"What happened?!"

"Did he cheat on you?!"

"You two were doing so great, Jess, how did this happen?!"

She gave them no answers and continued to cry silently. She couldn't bring herself to answer any of them, not yet at least. She found it difficult to process this, although she wasn't really surprised that it had come to this. It wasn't something she'd actually been thinking of doing, but the more she thought about the last few months, the worse she felt. She realized that she'd chosen to ignore the tell-tale signs of trouble in her marriage and had let it come to a point where she couldn't deny it any longer. It only made sense that the sudden static that had developed in their relationship over the last few months would've culminated the way it had this evening.

The tirade of questions from her friends were pounding on her head. She didn't know what to tell them; she wasn't sure she had all the answers herself. She could feel Cece's hand on her knee and she knew Nick was staring at her. She knew they wanted to know what had happened, but she just didn't have it in her at that moment. She had just needed to tell all the important people in her life, to stop herself from living the lie that she and Sam were still happily married and Sam was just taking a business trip somewhere when she knew that wasn't the case.

Slowly, she turned her head to rest her cheek on the table, feeling her own tears on her skin. She looked at two of her best friends and could see the millions of questions in their eyes, behind all the concern.

"Jess," said Cece, softly. "Talk to me."

"I can't," she sniffled. "Not right now."

Jess looked at Nick, pleadingly. "I want another glass of wine."

Nick shook his head and said gently, "You'll regret it in the morning."

Grunting in frustration, she scrunched her eyes shut. She could see all of them exchanging looks in her mind's eye. She wanted to be annoyed, but she was too tired to feel that way. She heard Schmidt whisper something to Cece about calling the babysitter so they could stay longer, but Nick interjected.

"It's alright, you guys head home to Ruthie," he said quietly, his hand now on Jess's back, moving up and down soothingly. "I'll stay with her."

"Jess, we can stay if you want us to," Cece said, turning to Jess to make sure.

"No...no, Ruthie needs you," said Jess, softly. "I'll be fine with Nick."

Cece nodded once and looked at Nick, who gave her a quiet look of reassurance. Schmidt shuffled out of his seat and gently placed a hand on Jess's head. "Call us if you need anything, okay?"

She heard their retreating footsteps after Cece planted a kiss on her head. Nick stood up and she felt him nudge her gently, so she sat up straight and moved further into the booth to let him sit next to her. He asked her nothing, knowing she'd tell him eventually. He threw a hand around her shoulder, tugging her gently toward him. She shifted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She wasn't crying anymore, but she was still breathing heavily.

"Let's get you home," he said quietly.

For a second, that sounded like heaven. All she wanted to do was drink herself to sleep while crying into her pillow. Then she realized that she couldn't go back home. Not tonight at least, or maybe ever. The thought made her sick to her stomach and she started to cry again, no longer silent tears, but deep sobs into Nick's shoulder.

"I can't even go home!" she cried.

"Stay over at my place tonight," said Nick immediately, adding with a hesitant smile. "I'm sure I have Dirty Dancing somewhere. We'll have a Jessica Day Special tonight."

A Jessica Day Special. That's what Nick liked to call Dirty Dancing and a pint of Ben and Jerry's. She wiped her wet face with her hand, sniffling, trying to return his smile. "That sounds good."

"Well, let's get going then," he said. "We'll figure out the rest later, okay?"

With that, Nick left her to her thoughts for a few moments so he could tell Big Bob that he was leaving a little earlier than usual. She watched his retreating back and felt herself a sense of reassurance creep into her. For now at least, there seemed to be a plan; as mundane as it might be, she didn't feel as empty and lost as she had when she had left the house.

She was actually glad not to be going back to that large, empty house. It wasn't home anymore, not really. As she thought of the house she and Sam lived in, every detail started to feel more and more foreign. The entire house was furnished to her and Sam's liking, filled with things from a life that had come to an end just that evening.

She stood up slowly when she saw Nick return, remembering every minute detail of the house, each piece of furniture involving a careful discussion she still remembered vividly. All those details had seemed so important at the time but now it all amounted to nothing. It was the home she and Sam had built together for over three years, that she thought they would grow old in together. Sam had made it quite clear that he would be moving out of that house and she didn't think she'd be able to live there anymore alone with all their ghosts. Everything in that house had become a symbol of their broken marriage.

She no longer had a home or a life plan. All those things were entirely too painful to think about at the moment. But as she felt Nick place his hand reassuringly on the small of her back, guiding her towards the exit of the bar, she decided to focus on how she was still lucky in many ways. As she followed Nick to his car, she felt a warm surge of affection for him. Here was Nick, one of her oldest and dearest friends, taking care of her. She knew he wouldn't make her talk about the end of her marriage, all the ways she had failed. They would just sit on his couch, watching Dirty Dancing and eating ice cream like they always did together whenever life sucked. And in the morning, Nick would help her pick up the pieces and duct-tape it all back together so she could start the rest of her life without Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A BIG SHOUT OUT TO @DREAMSOFSLEEPINGIN FOR BEING THE PATIENT AND BEST BETA ANYONE COULD ASK FOR. EVER.
> 
> Yeah, sorry I know I promised flashbacks, but I had to start with a chapter to establish the story. Plenty of flashbacks from the next chapter, I promise - childhood, high school, college, their relationships with different people. I can only pray it's not too confusing. And that neither is the course-of-action I have planned for this fic.
> 
> And yeah, this is going to be fREAKing SORT of slow burn.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the shit I got for not updating this, Y'ALL BETTER LEAVE ME REVIEWS lmao

**8th April, 2011 (Los Angeles)**

Jess was on her second tub of ice cream now. Winston and Aly had come back home when she’d nearly finished her first, and luckily, they hadn’t asked her too many questions. Winston had merely nodded in understanding while Aly offered Jess an extra set of pajamas for the night.

Now, she was nestled into the couch next to Nick, who had his trusty beer with him, and they were both sitting in silence watching 'Dirty Dancing' playing at a low volume to keep from waking Nick's other roommates.

She was glad that she wasn’t alone and for the silent company that Nick was keeping with her. She made a mental note to get him a gift as a thank you for keeping her company yet again through a movie he had seen a million times before. This is just what Nick does. Whenever she needed it, he had always kept her company and watched the movie with her, no questions asked until she was ready to talk about what was troubling her. He might not understand how the movie helped her, hell, she barely understood it herself, but it just did. Like Nick, _Dirty Dancing_ had been with her through all of life’s trials and tribulations, Patrick Swayze outlasting pretty much every other guy she had ever been with.

 **_21st May, 1995 (Portland)_ **  

 _“Oh, Jess, honey, what is it?” asked her mother with concern when Jess walked into the house sobbing and threw herself onto her mother’s lap._  

 _Joan turned down the volume of the movie she’d been watching, and gently ran her fingers through Jess’s hair._  

_“Peter is such a….” she started, and then looked up at her mother with a small frown. “May I use a bad word, please?”_

_Joan bit back a smile. She had never forbade Jess from using bad language to express herself, but Jess was entirely sensitive to the nature of words and never liked being mean on purpose._

_“Sure,” said Joan, partly curious as to what bad word her thirteen-year-old_ _would use to encapsulate the frustration of her teenage life._

_“Peter’s such an idiot,” said Jess, burying her face in her mother’s lap again._

_Joan nodded in understanding. Jess had been talking about Peter for weeks now, and she felt_ _that warm flutter in her chest at the idea of first crushes, of her little girl growing up and finding those first brushes of young love._ _But_ _as much as Joan thrilled at the idea of seeing her young daughter experiencing all those dizzying highs, at the same time she was also terrified for her daughter because she knew from experience that first crushes almost always led to first heartbreaks, the first shatterings of too-fragile little hearts._

  _“If Dad were here, I would ask him to beat him up,” muttered Jess._ _"He's a good guy to have around, Mom," Jess said pointedly._

 _Joan sighed. She knew Jess still wasn’t used to the divorce even though it had been nearly two years since_ _she and Bob had split up._ _At least once a day, Jess managed to slip in a mention of her father into one of their conversations, as if mentioning him enough would convince her mother to change her mind and conjure her father back into their lives the way it had been before._

_“And your father definitely would have,” agreed Joan. “But maybe Abby will do it for you?”_

  _Jess turned to look up at Joan and sniffling, said thoughtfully, “I’ll check with her at dinner.”_

  _“Good, then no more crying over that idiot boy, okay?” said Joan gently, brushing the bangs out of her daughter’s eyes._

  _“Okay,” she said, giving Joan a watery smile._

  _“Do you want to watch this movie with me?” asked Joan, pointing at the TV._

  _Jess turned to one side and stared at the TV. “What is it about?” she asked._

  _“Well, there’s lots of singing and dancing,” said Joan, smiling down at her._ _She knew those were two of Jess's most favorite things in the entire world and were nearly guaranteed to put a smile back on her little girl's face._

  _“Okay, then,” nodded Jess eagerly, and snuggled against her mother to watch_ Dirty Dancing _for the first time._

Nick kept shooting glances at her every once in a while, and noted that the tear trails had dried up. It never ceased to amaze him how this film always made her feel better, but he was glad it did. He was still worried about what had happened, but knowing Jess, she would tell him soon enough.

As the end credits rolled across the screen for the second time that night, Jess yawned and straightened up on the couch. “I think we should call it a night,” she said through another yawn.

“But we’ve only seen it twice,” said Nick, teasingly, giving her a lopsided smile.

 “I know,” she said, smiling weakly at him. “But I want to sleep away the rest of the night. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Nick turned the TV off and put his beer bottle on the coffee table before turning to face her fully. She had her head against the couch, looking at him with exhausted eyes, still puffy from the steady stream of tears she’d been shedding.

“It’ll be okay, Jess,” he said quietly, placing a comforting hand on her knee. The words sounded lame even to him, but he's never really been good at comforting people. Jess always comes back to him though so he thinks she still appreciates the effort, even if he can never find quite the right words to say.

“It’s just….” she sniffled. “ _So_ much is going to change, Nick. What am I going to do?! I don’t think I can afford rent by myself right now. But I can’t live in that house either because it used to be _our_ home and now… it’s just a house.”

He was sad that Jess had to deal with this all again. It had really hurt her when her own parents got divorced, but she had gotten through it. She had survived it and it hadn't made her like him. Would it be the same this time?

He had seen Jess cope with her parents’ divorce with an envy of sorts because he could never understand how someone could still see the good in the world after something like that. And there _he_ was, still bitter and cynical as anything although his parents were still technically "together," technically married. But Jess…that’s just who she was! She could find the sunshine in the darkest cave. You don't have to dream about the sun if you are the sun, and even in the times when she hasn't been in his life, whenever his own life sucked, just thinking about her always made him believe in the world too in spite of everything. To see this person, this eternally optimistic goddamn angel of a person, looking so defeated broke his heart.

“Jess, I'm here for you. We'll figure this out together,” he reassured her. “Worst case scenario? You can just move in here, into the loft. The bedroom across from mine is just going to stay empty anyway if you don’t.”

Jess nodded, still somewhat unconvinced, when something seemed to dawn on her and she looked at him quizzically. “Wait, what do you mean _stay_ empty? Where’s Reagan?” She started to frown and gasped when the puzzle pieces clicked together in her head. “Hold on, weren’t you supposed to be in New Orleans _with_ her? Why’re you _here_ ? Oh my god, I’m a terrible friend! I got so caught up with Sam that I didn’t even ask you about _your_ life! Nick, what happened?” she paused. “Did you two break up?” she asked sadly.

“Well, we did break up...” he said, before adding, “But _I_ broke it off with her.” 

Nick was startled at how relieved he felt to say that out loud. He’d been skirting around that with everyone else in his life, and he knew that his friends were expecting him to implode at any moment. Given his past reactions to broken relationships, he couldn’t blame them. It was obvious they’d thought that _she_ had ended things with him, because when did Nick ever end things with a woman? It was always _him_ who ended up getting dumped because he either wanted too much or too little.

“But Nick, what happened?” she asked again. “I thought you really liked her.” 

Nick tilted his head thoughtfully as she stared at him, waiting for a response. This question was exactly why he hadn’t talked about it with anyone yet. Truth was that he had realized quite a few things about himself and what he wanted from his life. It had all happened so quickly that he hadn’t had the time to process it all himself. 

_He wasn’t even sure where the realization had come from, but it had happened when he was taking a walk down the street with Reagan on his arm. A man was trying to get a sleeping toddler from the backseat of his car, frowning with extreme concentration as he covered her head with the palm of his hand so the roof of the car wouldn’t hit her. His wife looked on, supporting the weight of a slightly older girl, who was leaning into her sleepily._

_He had to stop and stare at them on the street. To everyone else it seemed like they were just a normal couple, but Nick saw the way they looked at each other. He had always thought it was a thing of fiction, that look of love between two people, but the trust, devotion, and just utter adoration he could see in their eyes woke something dormant in him. It was in that moment that he knew that was what he had been chasing his entire life._

_He was ready for it: the wife, the kids, the whole nine yards. He wanted all of it, and he wanted all of it with someone who understood him and who could love him unconditionally for the mess that he knew he could sometimes be, someone who would look at him the way that woman looked at that man in the middle of the street on a Tuesday afternoon like there was no one else in the world she wanted to be with._

“We didn’t want the same things,” he started, reaching for his beer again. “I wanted more.”

“And she didn’t?” asked Jess knowingly.

“I don’t really know, actually,” he shrugged. “I didn’t ask her.”

“What?” asked Jess, frowning. “Nick, then why did you-”

“Because even if she _did_ want more, I realized that I just couldn’t see myself with her. It actually wasn't a bad relationship, we didn't fight and it's not like we ended up hating each other or anything. But sometimes you just know you're with the wrong person,” he said, surprisingly nonchalant. “I want more, but not with her.”

Jess rested her elbow on the back of the couch and supported her head on her closed fist. “Did you have someone else in mind?” she asked playfully.

“Not really. No one yet,” he said with a slight frown, taking a swig of his beer. “Unless you can somehow get Cindy Crawford for me,” he laughed.

“Well, whoever it is, make sure that _that_ person is The One. Turns out falling _out_ of love is a thing that happens too,” she chuckled lightly, but Nick didn’t miss the undertone of sadness in her voice.

She knew what he wanted to ask her, but was too hesitant to bring up, so she simply confirmed what he was thinking. “Yeah, that’s what happened to me and Sam. We just….fell out of love,” she said, shrugging helplessly.

Nick didn’t know how to react to that. All the romantic cliches about "having plenty of fish in the sea" and "Mr. Right being just around the corner" flew through his head but they all sounded exceedingly dumb and insincere at the moment, despite their best intentions. What do you say to someone who after years of believing otherwise, had discovered that love was not as permanent as everyone made it out to be? 

Wordlessly, Nick covers the distance between them and brings her in for a hug. He's not a hugger but it seems to be the only correct reaction to make to this revelation that is bigger than himself when he knows he doesn't have the right words to make his best friend feel better.

Jess stiffens in surprise initially before her body molds into his. Even though Nick is her best friend, she knows he's not a hugger. Nick Hugs are only reserved for those intensely sad moments in life when words fail them. She remembers the handful of times he's hugged her before: when her parents got divorced, the first time they broke up, when he left for college and left her behind. She did really need a Nick Hug today. His arms go around her and she closes her eyes and lets herself be held by him.

They hug for a long time, longer than 'just friends' would, before she pulls away from him. Drawing back, she smiles at him lightly in thanks before bidding him good night and trudging towards the bedroom across from his.

It was startlingly empty and unfurnished except for the lace curtains and the makeshift bed on the floor that she guesses Nick and Winston had set up for her while she was changing into her pajamas. Closing the door behind her, she mused how she could’ve missed how empty the room was on her multiple trips to the bathroom. As her body hits the mattress, exhaustion finally overtakes her and she quickly falls into a deep slumber, long before her mind is able to draw a conclusion to her wandering thoughts.

... 

As Nick headed to his own room a few minutes later, he peered into the room to check on Jess and smiled to himself as he realized she was already sound asleep. Closing the door of the room, he walked back to his own.

He lay on his bed, thinking back to how much things had suddenly changed in a span of twenty-four hours. It felt surreal that Reagan was gone, because he remembered how relentlessly he had tried to pursue her. It was even more surprising that he felt nothing about that. He wasn't really sad like after most breakups. It was like saying goodbye to an acquaintance, someone he had only known for a little while, instead of the girlfriend he had had for well over a year. For a brief second when they had hugged goodbye he thought maybe he had made a mistake. But all these weeks later, it felt right to let her go so they could both have the chance at happiness.

The crazy thing is, he's sadder about Jess. The hopeless romantic he had known as a kid was getting divorced after two years of marriage. It felt like only yesterday that he had been at her wedding.

This was the most he and Jess had spoken to each other since her marriage two years ago. He hadn’t seen enough of her since then and her marriage had drawn strange sorts of boundaries between them; unspoken, but still tangible. There seemed to be all these _rules_ that they had to follow on how to behave around each other. He hadn’t liked it one bit, but she had been Sam’s so he knew he had to back off. There wasn’t anything going on between them anymore but being some guy being all touchy-feely and hanging around some other guy’s wife still hadn’t felt right, even if they were just friends.  

He had had to think twice about throwing an arm around her shoulder like he always used to do, and every time he had seen Jess, _Sam_ would always be there. The few times he had tried to meet Jess for a coffee or lunch, she had said that she needed to check with Sam. Even though she almost always made it to their strictly platonic “friend dates,” it had always felt like Sam was intruding on their friendship, taking up all the space Nick used to occupy. 

_“He’ll be home early today, so I can’t stay for too long.”_

_“I can’t make it today, Nick. I’m sorry. Sam’s got this conference he wants me to go to with him.”_

Sam was always the priority. And even though that was how it was supposed to be since they were married and all, it had still bothered him that Jess and Sam seemed to be a matched set now and Jess couldn't do anything without him, like she didn't even have her own life anymore.

He had complained to Schmidt about it one night, but Schmidt had just cryptically said that marriage was one of those things that caused a massive shift in relationships.

_“You’ll see when you get married.”_

He knew Schmidt was right and he was just being immature wanting to have everything stay the same while all his other friends grew up without him. So he put space in between him and Jess, even though it hurt, because she was married and she was happy with Sam.

But now here she suddenly was sleeping across the hall from him like she used to when they were both kids in Chicago.

Jess had been right. _So much was going to change._  
  
But as he drifted off to sleep, Nick realized the more things change, the more they stay the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, oops. I know not much has happened. As said before, this'll be a slow burn of sorts.


	4. Chapter 3

**2nd May, 2011**

Jess drove by the house she used to share with Sam for the third time in the last twenty minutes, her grip on the steering wheel tightening every time the house came into view. This was the first time time she would be seeing him since that awful night they'd decided that there was nothing left of their marriage to save.

They had spoken over the phone of course, negotiating and trying to come to an arrangement, reducing the life they'd shared for four years into mere numbers. Fortunately, it hadn't been difficult. Sam was ever the pragmatist and already had all his charts and plans for how everything was to be divided. It made her sad, even though she thinks it shouldn't. It all seemed too easy.

It still left a hollow feeling in her chest, the fact that he didn't fight for them. The fact that he didn't try to discuss how they might just be able to make it work. She could still feel the lingering pain from the night when he'd said the words with such finality, albeit with some amount of sadness. He had looked so defeated, and when she realized the extent of it, she had felt it too. Relationships were a lost cause if one of the parties involved wholeheartedly believed so.

She knew he had loved her when he did, but was love really something that could be given up on so easily? She had always thought otherwise, but maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe it was that easy to give up on it. Her parents had, hadn't they? Was it really this easy to just give up on love?

_It wasn't supposed to be._

After they had broken through the initial ice over the phone, she had genuinely thought that she was ready to see him again. But the sight of the house was frazzling her nerves like she couldn't believe.

As the house came back into view the fourth time, Nick sighed as he saw her knuckles turn white as she prepared to drive past the house again. He wasn't only here for moral support. He had promised her he would force her to rip off the band-aid if she couldn't do it. This is what they do for each other, like the time he wanted to quit law school and couldn't do it.

"Jessica," he said for the fourth time that afternoon. " _Now_."

" _No_ ," she said through gritted teeth, again.

"Jess, I'm here," he said quietly, as the larger-than-life idea of Sam loomed over them.

She hit the brakes with a frustrated grunt. "I know, I know. I'm just really nervous."

"That's normal," Nick said to her. "But there's only so long you can live off of the clothes Winston brings in from the Lost and Found at the police department."

"Yes, you're right," she sighed. "Alright, let's do this."

"Let's do this," he nodded.

"Just another go around the block," she said.

"Jessica, _no_ ," warns Nick, but she has already revved the engine and the car is speeding away from the house even as she promised that this would be the last drive-by.

Thankfully, this time it actually was.

She stepped out of the car and nervously straightened her dress, but didn't move towards the front door. Nick stepped out as well and looked at her across the roof of the car.

"Jess, I could go in and get your stuff while you wait out here," he said quietly. He promised her that he would help her rip off the band-aid, but maybe she just wasn't ready yet. "You never have to see him again if you don't want to." He's giving her an out even though he thinks he shouldn't, but seeing her there scared and vulnerable makes him want to take her home and pop in _Dirty Dancing_ until she becomes strong, vibrant Jess again and not this fragile person before him. Seeing her there scared and vulnerable makes him want to take her home and pop in _Dirty Dancing_ again.

"No," she said, shaking her head determinedly. "No, I told you, _I_ need to do this."

Nick nodded once and Jess started to walk up towards the front door of the house while he waited by the car and watched her go. She ascended the steps slowly and her hand hovered over the door for a few seconds before knocking. Seconds later, the door opened and the first thing she notices as Sam is standing in the doorway is that he's no longer wearing his wedding ring. She can still picture that platinum band around his finger where it used to be, and it only serves as a reminder to what had been and what no longer was anymore. She self-consciously hid her hands behind her back. She was still wearing hers.

"Hey, Jess," he said softly.

"Hi, Sam," she said, smiling at him nervously.

"How're you doing?" he asked with genuine concern.

"I'm okay. Settling into the loft and... stuff," she finished lamely.

"Nick's place?" he asked, raising his brows.

"Yeah," she nodded. "It was empty and seemed like the best option, so…"

She wasn't sure why she was justifying her move. The small part of her that still felt something for him, was starting to feel guilty. She found it hard to watch him move on so quickly, so maybe he did too. _Maybe_.

"Right," he muttered, and looked down at the floor.

"And um, how are _you_?" she asked, fidgeting with her hands.

"I'm okay. Still getting used to the empty house," he sighed.

"Right," she mumbled, her eyes starting to sting a little. "I should get my stuff," she said, pointing in the general direction of the house.

"I've packed as many of your things as I could find into boxes," he said. "They're all in our- the bedroom. And um, give the kitchen a once-over too to make sure I didn't miss anything."

Nodding as he stepped aside to let her in, she walked past him, careful to make sure there was no contact made between them. As Sam started to turn around to follow her, he caught sight of Nick waiting by the car and raised his hand in greeting. Nick gave him a smile and nodded in his direction. Deciding that he'd rather not watch his wife, soon-to-be ex-wife, go over her packed things, Sam changed his mind and started to walk towards Nick.

Nick watched apprehensively as Sam walked towards him. He had never really spoken to Sam for more than fifteen minutes at a stretch. And most of those fifteen minutes involved Jess doing the talking while the two of them simply nodded at each other in that "bro" way that guys do when they only know each other through a third person and know they would never hang out together, let alone know each other, if it weren't for said person. If Nick remembered correctly, the last conversation he'd had with Sam was when he drunkenly complained to Sam that Jess didn't bake as often as she used to, and Sam drunkenly led to Jess discovering them drunkenly trying to make a pie at 4AM while arguing whether a tomato was really a fruit and could go in said fruit pie. He couldn't even remember where that was.

"Hey, Nick," said Sam, hands in his pocket.

"Sam."

"So, how're you?"

"I'm good," said Nick. "You?"

"Good, good," chuckled Sam nervously. "All good."

"Good," repeated Nick, starting to feel a little stupid.

"So you and Reagan didn't work out, huh?" said Sam, clearly desperate trying to change topics.

"How did you-" started Nick.

"She swung by the hospital last week. New assignment for kids' medications," explained Sam. "She mentioned it."

"I see," said Nick tightly. He tried to be flippant about it. "Oh, well...it was for the best."

"It's a shame," said Sam, shaking his head. "She's great."

"I guess so," said Nick, trying not to sound too dismissive. He definitely didn't want to talk to his best friend's ex-husband about his love life.

They both fell quiet and to both their relief, Jess appeared in the doorway of the house with two boxes in her hands and called out, "I need help with the boxes!"

Sam started to move, but Nick interjected in a polite but firm voice. "I'll get them."

Sam doesn't get to come in here and act like he's the good guy when he hurt Jess. Jess told him that it had been a mutual decision, but he knew there was more to it than that. She hadn't told him everything but he's her best friend so he knows about things like that, even if she can't tell him. Call it 'Best Friend's Intuition'.

As he stood there, he could still picture her face when she'd told him that Sam had proposed, her nervous excitement the night before the wedding. He also remembered how she'd looked when she'd walked into the bar alone that night, crying her eyes out. He knows it doesn't have anything to do with him. It's Jess's life and he knows she feels like she failed as a wife, but he can't help thinking that Sam must not have been a very good husband to make his wife cry like that, and Nick knew he would never be able to forgive him for hurting Jess that way.

Sam sighed and held his hands up, pursing his lips. "Yes, of course."

Nodding once at Sam, Nick hurried off to get Jess's things. Sam quietly watched Nick disappear into the house as Jess hurried towards the car to drop off the boxes. She struggled to open the trunk, and Sam silently held his hands out to help her. After a second of hesitation, she placed the two boxes in his open arms so she could open the trunk. She started to take the boxes from Sam, when he said, "I'll put these in. You go ahead and get the rest."

Jess stared at him unsurely for a few seconds before shaking her head and taking a deep breath. "Yeah, okay. Thanks," she muttered, before marching back into the house.

Almost all the photos in the house were gone except for their wedding picture, which still hung over the mantle. She was touched that he still bothered to water the plants and that he had kept the painting she loved. She remember how they'd had a heated argument over purchasing that at a garage sale; he had relented when she said he could get the bizarre handglove chair in return. Back then she thought they had been such a good couple, so good at compromising, but she guesses you end up compromising enough and neither of you ends up happy.

She made her way to the kitchen, now almost entirely empty. She knew that Sam had meticulously packed every single one of her things and that she didn't really need to look to check if he had forgotten anything. But she did anyway, lingering in what used to be their kitchen, almost mechanically looking through everything until Nick called out to her from upstairs.

"Hey, Jess, is this all of it?"

"Hold on, I'm coming upstairs!" she replied, scurrying out of the kitchen and taking the stairs, two steps at a time.

She eyed all the boxes in what used to be her and Sam's bedroom and it still felt so surreal. She could feel Nick's gaze on her as her eyes darted from box to box, checking the labels to make sure everything had been packed before peering into each of them. As she mentally checked off her list, she looked around the stripped-down bedroom, and felt another wave of sadness. The room almost looked like it had when her and Sam had first come to look at it, before they bought the house. They had been so hopeful then starting their lives together; she had really thought it had been the perfect house for them. They both did.

"Jess…" Nick said gently, pulling her out of her memories.

"I'm okay, Nick," she said, shaking her head to collect her thoughts before picking up two more boxes and heading out of the room.

Nick watched her retreating back and sighed to himself before picking up a couple of boxes and following suit.

Fifteen minutes later, all her things were out of the house. Her car was filled to the brim with boxes and Nick had even tied some up on the roof. He'd insisted that they wouldn't really need a moving truck when Jess had a car that big, but as always, he had underestimated. As he closed the trunk of the car shut, Nick gave Jess a small, reassuring smile, tilting his head towards Sam, who was standing at the hood of the car, staring at the house. _The last thing to do was to say goodbye to Sam._ Jess gave Nick a quick nod and walked up to Sam while Nick slipped into the car to give them some privacy. She noticed that he'd slipped into the driver's seat and was silently grateful for it; she wasn't sure she'd be able to drive them back.

"Well, this is it then," said Jess to Sam, breaking him out of his reverie.

He looked at her and sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair. "Yeah, I suppose it is," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, taking her hand in his.

She squeezed his hand gently and smiled at him sadly. "Me too."

"It was real while it lasted," said Sam quietly. "I hope you know that."

"I know," she said. "I know, Sam."

He smiled at her ruefully for a few seconds before surprising her with a hug. Startled at first she hugged him back, clenching her eyes shut as she willed herself not to cry. After a few seconds, he drew back and kissed her forehead. "All the best, Jess."

Giving him a watery smile, she nodded. "You too."

He let go of her and she smiled at him one last time before sliding into the passenger's seat. She closed the door shut and peered at him from the window.

"Goodbye, Sam," she said.

As Nick started to pull away, Sam waved at her before trudging back into the house.

Her heart broke a little as she saw their house disappear in the rearview mirror as they drove away. True, they weren't in love with each other anymore, but that didn't mean it hadn't been real when they were. A small part of her was saddened over the fact that something she had thought to be permanent, was not. It's never easy cutting off ties with someone who you'd spent the better part of four years believing to be the center of your world.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Nick, turning to look at her with concern etched on his face.

"No," she said and turned to look at him dolefully. "But I think I will be."

She had to remind herself there was still tomorrow. There's always tomorrow, even if in your darkest hour, you can't believe tomorrow still exists.

As Nick gave her a reassuring smile, she knew that everything would turn out to be perfectly fine. The optimist in her was starting to get excited at the prospect of what was next and she let herself dream about the better things that she hoped were awaiting her on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews, thanks. They mean a lot :)


	5. Chapter 4

**6th June, 2011 (Los Angeles)**

Over the past couple of months, Jess had familiarized herself with every inch of the feeling of being alone. Sleep hardly ever came to her and she still hadn't gotten used to having the bed all to herself. A part of her longed for the familial life she'd left behind, unable to accept that she'd even let it go in the first place. She found herself thinking often of Sam with an odd sense of yearning. Despite herself, she wondered if he was doing alright, whether he was eating properly, and the thought of Sam returning to an empty house still made her ache dully inside.

It wasn't like she was still in love with him, no. The longing she felt often had more to do with just being accustomed to him rather than any actual heartache. It was merely a habit now, and it felt like she had to cleanse him out of her system. She knew it would take time, but she wished it would happen soon. She was tired of feeling the way she did, worrying herself on sleepless nights over how much longer they might have lasted, how much longer she would have lasted had Sam not been the first one to bring it up at all.

_**8th April, 2011 (Los Angeles)** _

_After leaving a note on the fridge to inform Sam about the dinner she had lovingly prepared and Saran-wrapped for him within it like the dutiful wife she was, she dragged herself upstairs to bed. She hadn't bothered asking him to reheat the food like she always used to. She half-doubted he would even come home because he hardly ever did anymore, even though it was 'date-night.' She didn't remember the last time they'd gone on a date-night, and neither could she remember why they'd stopped going._

_She kept up the illusion for her friends so they wouldn't worry. This was just a rough patch for her and Sam. She was_ sure, _like she had been for weeks, maybe even months, that everything would soon return to normal and they would be Sam-and-Jess again, the perfect couple._

_"Working late at the hospital. You know how it is..." he would mumble to her when she would catch him slinking back home in the early morning hours, but she knew better._

_It had started with him coming home at the break of dawn. His arrival would be announced by the waft of an unfamiliar scent of roses, and she would feel the bed dip as he lay down next to her, completely unaware that she was awake. It used to be a habit she had developed, waiting up for him._

_It had hurt at first, and she'd feel the pillow soak in her tears as she choked back a sob. With time though, it had disoriented her when she realized the hurt came from the unexpectedness of it, from his casual cruelty, and nothing more. With that realization, sleep came easily and she would fall into an easy slumber, not really bothered by when he returned._

_She'd tried not to think too much about why she wasn't bothered by it._

_But **that**  evening, she froze on the stairs when she heard the door click open, followed by his familiar footfalls. Sam wasn't supposed to be home yet. She knew she could keep pretending nothing was the matter, put on the warm and easy grace of Sam's wife, but she suddenly hated their entire ruse of a marriage, of a life._

_Seconds later, she flew down the stairs and paused in the hallway the front door of their house opened into._

_She had never been more shocked at the sight of her husband and remained mute as she watched wide-eyed as he hung his jacket and slipped out of his shoes. As he straightened, he caught sight of her and froze as well, both standing in silence until she managed to choke out, "Sam."_

_"Jess," he said quietly, mimicking the exact same tone._

_He walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her temple, playing the role of the dutiful husband, before heading to the kitchen. Roles. That's all they were playing now, trying to stay as true to their labels as they possibly could. Her breathing stopped and she scrunched her eyes shut for a few seconds as the familiar, yet unfamiliar scent of the rose perfume hit her senses._

_"Jess?"_

_She heard him call out to her, following the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. Turning on her heel, she hurried towards the kitchen, filled with a sense of foreboding. She saw that Sam had already started to dig into the pot roast she had wrapped for him. He hadn't heated it, she noted with irritation, despite the numerous times she had reminded him to._

_Quietly, she sat across him, elbow on the table and her hand propping her head up. "You're home early," she said pointedly._

_He laughed_ , _an almost forced sound. "Jess, it's nearly midnight."_

_"You know what I mean," she muttered._

_Sam sighed and nodded. She continued to look at him, waiting for him to say something, to give her some semblance of truth to hold on to as he ate, but he only stared back at her. He set the fork aside carefully after a few moments and for the first time in months, Jess could tell that he was really **looking**  at her._

_"You look tired," he said matter-of-factly._

_She swallowed nervously. "I was um, out all day interviewing to become a teacher at some different local schools."_

_A look of mild surprise crossed his face. "I didn't know you wanted to work again…"_

_She chuckled, almost bitterly. "I've been wanting to for some time now. There's nothing much to do at home as of late, so…"_

_"Mhmm," he nodded somberly. He brought his hands to lock in front of him and started to twiddle his thumbs nervously._

_A part of her wanted to ease his nervousness, but a larger part of her was overtaken by a feeling of pettiness. She wanted to purse her lips and watch him squirm, but she has never been that person so she pushes down the impulse. She doesn't know where to start, so she asks him the first thing that comes to her mind._

_"So how's work?"_

_"I… Haven't been in the hospital all these days…"_

_"Oh?" she said, eyes widening slightly as she realized where this was going._

_"... and… nights, as a matter of fact." He finishes and looks extremely remorseful._

_"I know," she replied, playing with the hem of her blue robe. She wanted to look away from him_ , _but forced herself to continue holding his gaze._

_"No, I mean to say that I've been seeing-"_

_"Sam," she said with emphasis. "I know."_

_He took in a sharp breath and his shoulders sagged as he sank into his chair. Running his hands through his hair, he kept his eyes on the table, unable to look at her. "How long?"_

_She simply shrugged, because she honestly didn't know the answer to that. He sighed and leaned forward. "Jess, I'm so, so sorry. I never thought that we-"_

_"Yeah, me neither," she said, almost ruefully._

_"I am really, really sorry," he repeated._

_"You know what?" she said, looking at him, head slightly tilted to one side. "It's alright. You made a mistake, and it's over now. I forgive you."_

_He stared at her unsurely for some time, clearly confused. But then he let out a bitter laugh, and she frowned, unsure what it was that he found so funny._

_"Sam, why are you-"_

_"Damn it, Jess!" he screamed, standing up abruptly, making her flinch. "You are supposed to be mad at me! Hate me!"_

_"Sam…" she started._

_He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, shaking his head, looking at the floor, not paying any heed to her. "And you're just… sitting there as if I told you that I got the wrong fucking groceries!"_

_She couldn't help the incredulous chuckle that escaped her. "You want me to hate you?"_

_"Jessica, I cheated on you," he said quietly. "Do you even care?"_

_She swallowed as her eyes teared up, because she knew what the answer to that was and started feeling like her mind was shutting down. She knew where this was going, that this was a long time coming but she'd never, ever thought that she'd be in a position of this kind; had never wanted to accept it. She and Sam had been perfect together. On paper at least._

_"People make mistakes, Sam," she said nervously, not looking at him. "It's alright. I mean, we're married and-"_

_"Jess, come on," he said softly, sitting back down. "You know that's not what this is."_

_"I just..." she trailed away, tearfully shaking her head. "What are you saying we do?"_

_"Jess, you don't love me anymore," he said, almost sadly._

_Her eyes shot up to meet his gaze, shocked at the accusation. He held her gaze steadily, almost challenging her to deny what he'd said, but she reaches a defining moment of clarity. She's been holding everything in for so long that she doesn't know what she feels anymore, but one thing she does know is that Sam didn't love her anymore. They weren't in love anymore._

_After that, there had been a lot of yelling; accusations were hurled as they tried to divvy up the blame for their crumbling marriage. There was plenty of blame to go around, but the fact was that it takes two to tango and sometimes, it simply isn't meant to be._

_When Sam finally put divorce_ _on the table, he was met by her shocked silence and Sam apologized again, very much aware of what that meant to her. He would at least take the blame for putting in the final nail into their relationship, even if he resented her for everything else._

_A part of her wanted to demand that they work it out; it was the same part of her that believed that her parents didn't try hard enough. But she was a grownup now, and she understood why love sometimes wasn't enough, if only partly._

_After she managed to pull herself together and agree with him, she had gone upstairs to change and muttering about needing some air, had left the house to go to the Griffin. He hadn't stopped her, entirely lost in thoughts of his own, still at the kitchen table, unmoving._

**6th June** , **2011 (Los Angeles)**

She swore under her breath and scrunched her eyes shut, angry at herself for repeatedly going back to that evening while trying to dissect what had gone so wrong in their relationship. This was not the way she was hoping she'd move on.

Maybe Cece was right; she needed to find someone to just hook up with. It was a fleeting thought and she grimaced at that because she was a woman who'd just gotten out of a four year-long relationship, of which two years, she had lived as a wife. It felt wrong somehow to just go back to being single, as if everything she had done since then didn't even matter. She sat up in her bed and, pushing her covers away, swung her feet of bed. Grabbing her blue robe and slipping into her bunny slippers, she padded across the room and stepped out, closing the door of her room behind her quietly.

Her steps marked by a faint squeaking noise, she walked towards the kitchen, stifling a yawn. She passed the stack of half-empty boxes in the living room with labels plastered across them in either Winston's or Aly's handwriting. They only served as a reminder that everyone else in her life was moving on in life while she had taken several steps back.

Hastening her steps, she hurried to the cabinet (her favorite one, lately) and pulled out a bottle of Sancerre. Grabbing a wine glass from the tray of freshly washed dishes, she poured herself some wine and sat at the kitchen island, sipping on it while trying to focus her thoughts on her new job, which she loved very much, and not her philandering ex-husband.

She was so distracted by trying to focus on something else that she didn't hear the door click open and Nick walked in, earlier than usual from his shift. As he dropped his keys in the bowl, his gaze fell on Jess and when he saw the half-empty bottle of Sancerre behind her, he sighed softly to himself.

He walked towards her quietly, and she didn't spot him until he was standing directly in front of her, separated by the kitchen island.

"Nick!" she exclaimed, clearly startled. "What're you doing home so early?"

"Well, I thought I'd hang out a bit with my alcoholic friend and talk to her about her first day back at school," he said, looking pointedly at the glass of wine in her hand.

"Now, don't make me regret handing you your first ever bottle of pink wine, Jessica," he reprimanded her as he tried tugging the glass out of her hand.

_**31st Jan,** **1999** _

_On New Year's Eve, Jess sat on the bench overlooking the lake alone. It had become her safe space in the last few months. It had a perfect view of the_ lake, _but hidden by some bushes and the trunk of a tree, it was still relatively isolated._

 _Last week, her boyfriend of hardly a couple of months had told her that he loved her on Christmas Day. And terrible timing too, as they found themselves locked on the roof of the library, with Nick no less. It wasn't exactly a comfortable situation having your ex in the same room as your current boyfriend while the latter was professing his love to you. Not to mention the said well-intentioned_ ex was _who put your current boyfriend up to this unwelcome revelation in the first place._

_She had panicked, and Paul didn't take it very well. Hurt and confused he'd left the scene as Nick sat against the glass door, face scrunched up in guilt as he kept muttering, "I'm the worst" and "This is my worst nightmare" over and over again. She'd stared at Nick angrily until he stopped mumbling and looked at her, the apology clear in his eyes._

_"You couldn't have just kept your mouth shut?!" she'd asked for the nth time, looking at him disbelievingly._

_"I'm sorry, Jess! I didn't know! I thought we were talking about the same thing and turns out we weren't!" he'd said, slumping further against the door._

_Shaking her head, she'd sat in silence, determinedly looking away from him until Winston appeared on the other side of the door and let them out. Ignoring his pleas, Jess had stormed out of the building and went home in a cab. The next day, Paul had called her and broken it off because she didn't feel the same way about him._

_At that moment, she'd found herself missing her_ mother, _because she always knew what to say._

_Her father really hadn't been of much help. All he'd said was, "Paul's an idiot."_

_It was during moments like this that she wished she hadn't moved back to Chicago for college. She still loved the city and its… people, but said people, she was very angry with at the moment._

_She wished Cece were here._ Cece'd _started visiting Chicago more often after she'd taken up_ modeling _, which Jess was grateful for. But right now, she was out on a date with Schmidt. She found herself feeling amused, wondering how Cece had gone from snapping at Schmidt all the time to agreeing to go on a date with him, and then sticking with him for almost a year now. She was happy for her_ friend, _but still couldn't help being a little bit sad for herself. Alone. Again._

_Now, as she gazed out at the lake, she grudgingly admitted to herself that it was better off this way. It wouldn't have been fair to lead Paul on._

_As she considered spending her summer in Portland, she heard some leaves rustle and stood up, hand poised to grab her pepper spray out of her bag to ward off_ unsavory _intruders._

_"Who's there?"_

_"I come with a peace offering."_

_Rolling her eyes, she sat back down. "Miller."_

_Nick stepped into view from behind the tree trunk with a glass bottle in hand. Seeing the look on her face, he said quickly, "Not beer, I promise."_

_He sat down next to her and handed her the bottle. "Rosé. From Ma's collection. I think you'll like it."_

_"Wine? Never had that before."_

_Nick shrugged. "A first time for everything, right?"_

_Jess took it from him without saying anything and put it in her bag; a silent promise that she'd try it at home. Nick smiled at her, and despite herself, she gave him a small smile._

_"Jess, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, scooting closer to her._

_"I know," she said simply, still looking at the lake._

_"I really thought you'd spoken to him about it. I didn't know you hadn't-"_

_"Nick, it's alright. I know you didn't mean anything by it," she said, turning to smile at him._

_Nick nodded, relieved. After a few minutes, Jess asked him quietly, "How're things at home?"_

_"Well, it's the same," he shrugged, almost nonchalantly. "I_ shouldn't've _left," he muttered._

_Jess sighed and turned to him. "Nick, look at me," she said, waiting, as he turned reluctantly. "You needed the space. You still visit home on weekends. Besides, I live close by, and if anything, anything at all, goes wrong, I will let you know. You did something for yourself after all these years, Nick. Stop feeling guilty about it."_

_Nick nodded once, before turning to look at the lake again. Jess stared at him for a few moments before resting her head on his shoulder. As she gazed at the lake, she felt Nick chuckle slightly when she looked at him questioningly._

_"We were doing the chicken dance around this time last year," he said, still chuckling._

_"In slow-motion," Jess grinned. "Let's do it again," she added excitedly, sitting up straighter._

_Nick shook his head. "No, Jess, I don't know. I just...no. I don't want to, right now," he said, tilting his apologetically._

_Nodding, she fell back_ against _the bench again, looking at him sideways. Something had changed in Nick ever since Walt began his escapades. Every now and again, he would shut down like he was doing now, and she wasn't quite sure what to do to make him feel better. So this had become a habit for them now, just sitting in silence for long stretches of time. As they sat there, the silence was broken by a sudden eruption of cheering, and they could hear a muffled countdown starting somewhere near them. Both of them looked at each other, their mind going back to the same time last year when they'd been locked in a kiss in the middle of a shuffling, cheerful crowd. Nick couldn't help the small half-smile that crept upon his face as he watched the blood rush to her cheeks._

 _As_ colors _danced across their faces when the sky erupted in fireworks, he leaned forward and touched her lips with his for just a few seconds before pulling back. She looked at him, surprised at first, but began to smile._

_"Happy New Year, Nick."_

_"Happy New Year, Jess."_

**Present Day**

"Hey, I'm not an alcoholic!" she exclaimed, resisting as he tried to pull the glass from her. Because she was not.

"That's what they all say," he said sceptically, still tugging at the glass. "You bought the bottle only two days ago, Jess. And it's already half finished."

"Nicholas!" she said adamantly. "Stop it! I'm not an alcoholic! I just need to-"

"Stop thinking so much?" he finished for her, eyebrows raised, and she frowned at him. "Jessica, talk to me," he said softly and she finally let go of the glass.

She watched him with an annoyed pout as he downed the wine and set the glass in the sink before taking a seat in front of her, waiting. She didn't say anything for a few moments, and he waited patiently for some time before playfully kicking her shin under the island.

"Come on, Jess," he said. "It's  _me_."

She looked up at him and gave him a rueful smile, she takes a deep breath and lets him in. At least as much as she can bring herself to.

She talked to him about how she felt she was moving back in time, instead of taking steps forward. About how she felt lost because everything she had been building towards for the last four years had vanished in the blink of an eye. Her voice came down to a whisper when she talked about falling out of love and Nick's heart ached for the friend who he remembered being so full of hope and sunshine. When she started to tell him about how she was afraid to love again, after a mental spar with herself, she decided against telling him about Sam cheating on her.  
**  
She knew she needn't be afraid of judgment from him, but a part of her still felt both guilty and ashamed about it. A part of her knew it was irrational, that Sam was the one who had wronged her by cheating, but to her it still felt like she hadn't been good enough .  **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to DreamsOfSleepingIn for the beta!
> 
> Please leave me some reviews. I live for them, thank. :')
> 
> Also, the last line is semi-crucial ;)
> 
> [ I know it's slowwww. Please bear with me, :') ]


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd suggest you read the ending of the previous chapter again, I added like a couple more lines! :)

**13th February, 2012**

On the morning of her thirtieth birthday, Jess opens her eyes and is greeted by the sight of a sheepish-looking Nick standing by her bedside. She sits up and sees that she is surrounded by all of her friends. Cece is there too along with Schmidt, carrying a still sleeping Ruth in his arms. Winston and Aly take up the opposite side of her bed. Nick holds a tray of what, she is sure, were once supposed to be cupcakes. Although most of them are half-burnt and Nick jokingly reassures her they were just "show cupcakes" and they had backup cupcakes in the living room from her favorite bakery, she is touched by the gesture. She calls them postmodern cupcakes, pre-masterpieces that were ahead of their time. They’d both laughed at that, and at this point, Schmidt was complaining about how his home’s kitchen was a disaster. 

“What’d you want me to do, Schmidt? If I’d baked them here, it wouldn’t’ve been a surprise now, would it?” asks Nick challengingly. 

Schmidt shook his head, and after kissing the top of Jess’s head and wishing her a happy birthday, he walked out, muttering about how Nick better come clean up his kitchen; he didn't even know how Nick managed to get frosting on the ceiling and behind the fridge. A few minutes later, after everyone else wished Jess a happy birthday, they filed out of her room, leaving her alone to start her day.

She got out of bed slowly to get ready for work. She knew none of her friends were too happy about her going to work on her birthday, but she knew going to work would keep her mind from straying too much into the unpleasant thoughts she had been having lately. Before her marriage, she was used to spending her birthday all by herself at the movies anyway, what with her expectations always being too high for the day in question. Not that she was usually disheartened or even sad about spending her birthday alone; she had grown to love spending the day by herself. Her friends had learned to respect that. Sometimes Cece would tag along, or Nick, if she happened to be in Chicago, and that was pretty much all the company she had ever thought she needed on that day.

But being in a relationship with Sam - as his girlfriend first, and his wife later - had changed that. He was a planner like her. It was usually an entire day out, going around to all her favourite places in the city, followed by a “surprise” party with her friends that he had planned in excruciating detail weeks in advance. Valentine’s Day was always just around the corner from her birthday too, and Sam would go all out on the romance for that as well, so it was like having two whole days just for herself, knowing she was safe and loved. 

She used to love both versions of her life, and now the day was tainted so she couldn’t even enjoy going to the movies by herself alone anymore like she used to.   

So this year, she couldn’t help the mild bitterness that threatened to seep into her. On her thirtieth birthday, she was brushing the tangles out of her hair in an apartment she shared with a roommate, barely making enough money, alone, and getting dressed to go to work. 

This wasn’t how she had planned her life to go. She’d always seen herself happily married by the time she was thirty, with at least one child to love. Now, not only did she not have any children, she’d lost her husband, and she felt awful about it. More so about the lack of clarity than losing her husband though, which was a whole other level of depressing. 

It had taken her a while to get used to it, but as months passed, she had started to feel lighter. More at ease than she’d felt in a long time. She was almost okay these days until intrusive thoughts like these made her miserable again. She’d been feeling a lot better the last couple of months. But since last week, the thought of her upcoming thirtieth had her feeling blue.

Feeling her heart sink just a little bit more, she shook her head, as if trying to empty it of the intrusive thoughts, and hastened her routine. The thought of the children waiting for her at school cheered her up a little; she was sure the kids were planning something special just for her.

\---

That evening, when she came back home late from work, she arrived to a surprise party hosted by Cece and Nick. She was genuinely surprised this year. it was honestly a miracle that so many people had successfully kept it from her; she knew how hard it must have been for Nick to not mention it to her at all. 

She appreciated the gesture, but she was still wishing the day would pass quickly, as would the next. Then she’d be able to go back to the person she’d struggled to become over the last few months, not this person who wallowed in self-pity. She hated that she was still doing that, despite knowing that it was just this day that made her feel that way.

So she ghosts around the party, trying to make conversation and pretend she was having a good time, but anyone who knew her could easily see through that. Jess tried to avoid Cece because she could tell from the look on Cece’s face that she was determined to get Jess to talk to her. But fortunately for her, her god-daughter was throwing a fuss, keeping Cece preoccupied for most of the party. 

As for Nick, she couldn’t really avoid him because she could feel his gaze on her constantly. While Cece preferred the ‘corner-and-interrogate-immediately’ method, Nick was more of an ‘observe-and-prod-later’ sort of a person.

After what seemed like hours, the guests slowly started to file out. Cece kissed Jess goodbye, muttering a promise to catch up over lunch, and giving her a pointed look before leaving with Schmidt to deal with a disgruntled, sleepy Ruth. Winston and Aly stay a little while longer to hang out with her and Nick. They all sit in the living area, drinks of their liking in everyone’s hand.

“So, when’s the wedding?” asked Jess, sipping on her wine, a small smile on her face.

“We’re thinking July,” said Aly, looking over at Winston with a smile.

“That’s perfect!” Jess replied, her smile dropping just a little bit as she remembered that she’d gotten married in July as well. 

It wasn’t like she still missed Sam. It merely served as a reminder that nothing was going according to the well-charted plan she’d had in her mind. It still shook her up every once in a while when she remembered how confident she had been that the to-the-T planning she had done for her life could go so wrong.

As if sensing her heartache, Nick scooted just a little bit closer to lay a comforting hand on her knee. Jess leaned into him slightly, and the four of them raised a toast to Winston and Aly. They reminisce some more before Winston yawns, immediately followed by the rest of them. Winston and Aly decide to call it a night and leave the loft as well. Now it was just her and Nick, like always. 

After Winston and Aly had moved out, Nick and Jess became the only two residents of the loft. They had considered looking for new roommates, but kept putting off what they thought was going to be a painful and troublesome task. They’d get to it later, they’d decided. The procrastination had led to a sort of routine they’d fallen into, which neither of them felt like changing very much.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a while, him nursing his beer and her sipping on her wine. As she finished her glass, she asked Nick to pour her another. He quietly did so, eyeing her warily. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Peachy, Nicholas,” said Jess, laughing, but the bitterness was evident. 

“Jess…”

She shook her head and quietly, murmured, “It’s nothing, really. It’s my thirtieth birthday, and honestly, all I want to do is get blackout drunk.”

“What?” she asked, when he looked at her funnily.

“Er, nothing,” he said shaking his head, before adding slowly, “I thought we’d um, decided never to be drunk and alone in the same room after… you know...”

Jess blinked in confusion, but that lasted only for a second. When he wouldn’t meet her eyes, she realized what he was talking about. She let out a surprised laugh, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Nick, that was… _years_ ago,” she said. “I mean… so much has changed since then and… I just- I don’t know, it seems a little silly now to be worried about being ‘drunk and alone’, doesn’t it?”

“I guess you’re right,” he said with a laugh. The nervousness still lingered, but at least he seemed slightly more at ease as he reached for the bottle. 

**_31st December, 2006_ **

**_~ Jess ~_ **

_That evening, Jess found out that Spencer had been cheating on her. Vowing to drink herself into oblivion, she headed to the bar, where she was surprised to find Nick._

_They talk about Spencer. And then about Caroline. Soon they’re making plans to watch Dirty Dancing at Nick’s place (completely innocent of course), but it isn’t till the New Year’s countdown that there is the slightest shift in the atmosphere._

_"Hey, Jess?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"If we're still single when we're 30, let's get married to each other."_

_She turned to look at him, eyes wide. "Are you asking me to marry you, Miller?"_

_Nick shrugged._ "If _we're still single when we're 30."_

_Jess quirked a brow. "Only if you do it right."_

_"What! I'm not getting down on one knee, Jess!" said Nick indignantly._

_She rolls her eyes. Nick, ever the romantic. She must already be way past drunk though because right now that doesn't sound half bad. At least someone wants to marry her, even if it is just Nick, her long-time childhood friend- slash-former ex-boyfriend. She could do worse._

_"Fine, old man," she giggled, before she stood up and curtsied. "Why of course, Nicholas. I will marry you. If we're 30 and single."_

_Nick laughed. "Barkeep!" he called, turning towards the bar, "Another round please, we're engaged!"_

_They drank ’til they began to see two of each other, before deciding that they should head out to Nick’s apartment. They stumbled out of the bar laughing, arm in arm, with a reckless abandon they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel for quite some time._

_Soon, they were standing outside his door. Jess leaned against the wall as she watched Nick fumble with his keys. They were both still slightly tipsy and had ridiculous smiles pasted on each of their faces._

_Minutes passed before Nick threw the door open with a flourish, a giggling Jess followed him inside, closing the door behind her._

_She walked straight to the TV after kicking off her heels and rummaged through the DVDs for a copy of Dirty Dancing as Nick headed to his room to change. A few minutes later, the movie was ready to play, and she let herself sink into the couch as she waited for Nick._

_Nick came out of his room some time later, a grey t-shirt and flannel pajamas in hand._

_“Here,” he said, offering them to her. “It’s too small for me now, but it’ll fit you just right. Comfy clothes are-”_

_“-key to a good sleep. Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, taking them from him as he sat down._

_She headed to the bathroom to change, and when she put the t-shirt on, she was surprised that she recognised it. She couldn’t believe he still had it._

_It used to be black, but now was faded to a dark grey. There was a neon green zombie printed on the front, but only parts of its face remained, the remnant of the summer Nick had decided becoming a rockstar was his destiny._

_Nick and a couple of other boys in the neighbourhood had gotten together to start a band that summer. Winston and Jess decided to be their co-managers, and Jess had been tasked with making their t-shirts._ _She remembered picking the zombie just for Nick because he had been going through his angsty teen phase then and had insisted the band only play "deep" songs about things like the afterlife and the apocalypse. He had loved it._

_Although the band had only lasted for a couple of months, Nick had kept the t-shirt. After they started dating the next summer, she used to wear it all the time when she stayed over at his place._ _She had been too shy to ask if she could keep it after they broke up, and she thought that was probably for the best. She didn’t want to have that constant reminder of their breakup tainting everything good about those summers. She was surprised he still had it, but it was originally his shirt after all. Nick probably didn't even remember that, but it was extra-comforting being wrapped in the memory of them tonight._

_She walked out to the living room and sat down next to Nick, grinning fully now. “I can’t believe you kept this!”_

_He turned to her, and she saw the recognition flicker across his face as well. He also turned a little red, only shrugging in response as he threw a grey blanket over both their legs._

_“You did look good in this shirt, even though it was too big on you,” she said, scooting close to him._ _"I never could get you to leave the 'baggy clothes' phase even when after we started dating."_

_“Hey, big clothes are comfortable!” he said mock-defensively, laughing, leaning forward for the remote._

_Leaning back into the couch, she stared at him for a few moments, thoughts still lingering over that summer they had dated. It had been a rough breakup, and it had taken them months to go back to the way they used to be. She remembered the months that had followed, being always on edge, wondering if she and Nick would ever talk again, if she’d have to change her summer and winter plans and just find another way to spend time with her Dad instead of going back to Chicago and chance running into Nick again._

_“Hey, Nick?”_

_“Hm?” he responded, as he settled back into the couch and threw an arm around her back._

_“I’m glad we’re still…_ **_us_ ** _,” she said, as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Despite... everything.”_

_When he didn’t say anything for a moment, she looked up at him to find that he was staring down at her. For the briefest of seconds, she was hyperaware of his heartbeat, thrumming under her skin that was touching his, and unconsciously, licked her lips._

_“Me too,” he said after moment, his face somewhat serious as he swallowed thickly._

_There were a few seconds of tense silence as they watched each other’s faces. Neither of them was sure who made the first move, but then they were kissing. His hands were threaded into her hair and her hand wound itself around his neck, pulling him to her as she sunk into the couch._

_They drew back for air after a few seconds, breathing heavily, looking slightly dazed as they stared at each other. Jess let out a nervous chuckle. “Wow. That was… something.”_

_Nick shook his head as if just realizing what he was doing, and started to draw back further away from her, but her hand bunched the material of his t-shirt and she pulled him in for another kiss. Somehow, through what they both would claim was a “drunken haze” the next day, they made it to his bedroom and gave into their natural chemistry._

_\---_

_The next morning, when she woke up, she lay in his bed, slightly shocked, the covers pulled up to her neck. Her mind was still reeling and she couldn’t believe what had happened. Maybe there could-_

_Her thoughts were interrupted by Nick stirring beside her, and she watched him come to as his eyes focused on her face. He propped himself up on his elbow and rubbed his eyes. “Boy, how drunk were we?”_

_She wanted to tell him that she knew exactly what she was doing, but the implications and the questions that were sure to follow were terrifying. Truth was they were both emotionally in a bad place, what with the Caroline and Spencer fiascos, so they’d just gotten carried away._ _The alcohol was to blame._

_Yep, it was the alcohol._

_That was all._

_Swallowing thickly, she muttered in response, “I’m guessing quite a lot.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to DreamsOfSleeping for the beta!
> 
> Please, leave me some reviews. I live for them, thank. :')
> 
> In case you haven't guessed, things will pick up soon now ;)

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST OF ALL, SHOUTOUT TO DreamsOfSleepingIn FOR BEING THE PATIENT BETA THAT SHE WAS, WITH MY NON-AMERICAN ASS :) This fic would probably kinda collapse if it wasn't for the time she took to beta read and give really really amazing input!
> 
> I know there's a lot of questions! But I promise they'll be answered :) This fic will have flashbacks to fill in the gaps :)
> 
> I'm really sorry about the long-ass prologue, but it was necessary to get this stuff into the first bit itself. :D :D
> 
> As for the changes, it was necessary. You'll see why very soon ;) ;) ;)
> 
> And please please leave reviews. They mean a lot, and give me an idea whether or not the idea is worth pursuing!
> 
> Thanks xoxo


End file.
